Transphobia – Skirtingroundmylife

Skirting Round My Life 2021 My Year On The Blog

As I look back on the events of 2021 I have to say that it wasn’t the year I or anyone hoped or expected it would be. These past 12 months have been a difficult year for us all and this continues to be reflected in Skirting Round My Life as it has in every blog, journal , magazine or other news outlets.

On looking at the statistics, this year has seen Skirting Round My Life on a bit of downward trajectory which I think was to be expected given the circumstances. Hopefully this will change in the next 12 months. Though that will, to a certain extent at least, depend on things opening up a bit post Covid and providing me with more opportunities to enjoy myself and post about my exciting experiences.

The first thing to say that Skirtingroundmylife gained 2, 507 views in 2020. This represented an drop of 16% from it’s 2020 total of 3,018. Though disappointed with the drop I am not in the least bit surprised as continued uncertainty from Covid19 played havoc with our lives and restrictions on what we could and couldn’t do meant opportunities for growth were very severely limited.

This lack of opportunity resulted in a very dramatic drop in the number of posts in the last twelve months as they fell by almost half from 98 to 50. It can also be said that the number of both visitors to the site and comments on posts are both down with the later dropping from 28 to 16 and likes falling by more than 60% from 83 to 36

Topics covered in the last twelve months included Acceptance, Age, Bisexuality, Childhood, Christmas, Coming Out, Ceilidhs, Concerts, Covid19, Crossdressers, Dancing , Dating, Death, Discrimination, Equality, Faith, Fashion, Friendship, Grandparents, Holidays, Lockdown, Love, Memories, Mental Health, Poetry, Relationships, Secrets, Sensuality, Sex, Sexism, Sexuality, Stereotypes, Transition, Transphobia, Visibility, Women,

2021 again saw a slight dip in my global reach as visiting nations were slightly down from 31 in 2020 to 27 last year. The top five countries were UK , USA, Ireland, Germany and Finland, with Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Guernsey, and Sweden. making up the top ten. There were also readers from countries including France, Croatia The Philippines, Denmark, Colombia, Peru, Norway, India, and Poland amongst other nations who paid this a visit

As all the statistics have now properly evaluated it is time to bring this review to its conclusion but before I do so I just want thank all my readers. Whether you subscribe to the site or read the posts on social media sites like Facebook or Twitter it doesn’t really matter, the main thing is that you read them and find them entertaining, enjoyable , thought provoking and maybe in some cases challenging. I really hope you’ll continue to do so as that’s what makes blogging so enjoyable for those us who put our opinions out there on the blogosphere for you to read. So all that remains is for me to wish you A Happy, Successful, and Peaceful New Year and I hope you’ll keep skirting round my life throughout 2022 and beyond .

Till next time

Gayle X

Pioneer

In this poem I celebrate the life of April Ashley. April for those who don’t know, made history by becoming the first person to ever undergo gender reassignment surgery. I’ve given it the title Pioneer, I hope you enjoy the read

Pioneer

You paved the way
for girls like me
to be women
your name of choice
selected to illustrate
the transformative change
which takes place when winter winds retreat
to be replaced by the first days of spring.

you were a woman
who wasn’t allowed to be a girl
because of the times you grew up in
a child of the inter war years
people feared those like you
a pioneer who wanted just to be herself .

after your operation
you married well
mixed in influential circles
yet those who sought wealth and power
cut the root from your life
declaring you were never a wife
nor were you legally wed
because of what your birth certificate said
misgendering you as they did it
not understanding
you were a pioneer
who accepted no limits
that others would rigidly impose on your desires
they couldn’t extinguish your fire

you made liars of hypocrites
you knew
who walked the highest of society’s corridors
and lived in places where gold cards met golden gates
to create a fortress
for those who could afford it
try as you might
you couldn’t ignore the map that nature had planned

though it was Caroline who would bring me
to an understanding of myself
through her I would learn of you see
the pioneer who sought to change the world
who chose the name April
to illustrate
that you could be
the change you wanted to be in the world
and made it a safer place for girls like me to blossom into ourselves

Thunder Clouds

In this poem for National Coming Out Day I relate the story of knowing I didn’t fit in to the gender box society had selected for me before my age even reached double digits and being smart enough to know what to say and what not to say in those socially conservative times. I also suggest the knowledge gained in my pre teen years may have made my teenage years a lot safer and easier to navigate than may otherwise have been the case. I’ve given it the title Thunder Clouds due to the nature of my Presbyterian upbringing in the Scotland of the 1970’s I hope you enjoy the read.

Thunder Clouds

Long before the Osmonds I knew
though there was a difference
between knowing and saying .
in those days you didn’t tell the world
you wanted to be a girl.
Imagine what the neighbours would say
let alone your friends in school
it wasn’t cool to come out
or be proud of who you were
at such a young age
god help you if you said it out loud
you would either be patronised
and told it was just a phase
or warned that thunder clouds would strike you down
for the shame you would bring on the family
sexuality was never discussed
except to mock those perceived as different
and anyway you were assumed to be innocent
till at least your high school years
the days when fears plagued your teens
concerned that you’d be found out
and somehow they would know
by the way you looked
or the jokes you never told
now older and wiser you realise
there was a difference between knowing and saying
and they were only acting the roles
for which they had been conditioned
the parts society had auditioned them to play
you forgave them their sins
on the night you came out as a woman
on behalf of the girl they had never met
or never thought they had
the girl you knew you were
long before the Osmonds
and every day there after.

Girl Mode

In this poem I look at Eddie Izzard’s recent decision to come out as gender fluid and her desire to use female pronouns. Whilst being supportive of Ms Izzard’s right to identify as she wishes I am tired of having to explain to people that as a transwoman I’m nothing like her and never will be. To me there is no such thing as girl mode because that implies to me that if girl mode gets too challenging they can always change back to boy mode and retain their male privilege. I really am less than pleased that I have to explain that this is me 24/ 7 and I don’t swap between the two genders whenever I decide I need a chance of an easier life. To me I am who I am for better or worse and it’s for this reason I’ve titled it Girl Mode I think you’ll find it an interesting read.

Girl Mode

You can’t switch it off
and then turn it on
like a tap
there’s more to transitioning than that
though some may be content
to be a woman at weekends
it could never be me
my life is not a trend
or the latest fashion accessory
it’s who I am
who I always was
who I was meant to be
I’ve known this since before I reached my teens
my dreams were woman’s dreams
though I couldn’t risk coming out
in days when it wasn’t safe
to walk the streets
and there was always fear of attack
you were always looking back
for shadows stalking your path
laughter and taunts haunting your heart
in the silent darkness of night
or the clear cold light of morning
I endured name calling
and years of self doubt
before I was allowed to be proud of myself
this is about emotional health
It’s not boob envy
or playing gender swap
in a shop where you can purchase
new identies by the day
this is real
it’s not about the roles we play
there is no such thing as girl mode

Skirting Round My Life 2020 My Year On The Blog

As I look back on the events of 2020 I have to say that it wasn’t the year I or anyone expected it to be. These past 12 months have been like a rollercoaster ride for us all and this has been reflected in Skirting Round My Life as it has in every blog, journal , magazine or other news outlets.

On looking at the statistics it’s been a game of swings and roundabouts as to some extent it always is in the blogging world. While there has been progress with the number of both comments reaching record levels it is offset by the fact that there was a drop in overall page views.

The first thing to say that Skirtingroundmylife gained 3, 018 views in 2020. This represented an drop of 7% from it’s 2019 total of 3,262. Though naturally disappointed with the drop I am not in the least bit surprised as the national lockdown caused by the Covid19 pandemic was bound to have some impact on the blog. Yet despite the challenging circumstances this has been a year of only slight decline with average views down to 7 views per day compared to 8 in the last two years.

This I think was due in no small part to lockdown though the fact I didn’t promote certain poems anywhere near as much as I should also contributed. This is something I will work towards improving in 2021.

That said there is one area where has been noticeable growth is in the number of posts published which rose from 88 to 98 in the last twelve months. It can also be said that the number of both visitors to the site and comments on posts are both up with the later more than doubling from 8 to 28, and likes increasing from 74 to 83

Topics covered in the last twelve months included Age, Birthdays, Bisexuality, Bullying, Childhood, Christmas, Coming Out, Ceilidhs, Concerts, Covid19, Dancing , Dating, Death, Disability, Discrimination, Equality, Family, Faith, Fashion, Gratitude, Kindness, Lockdown, Love, Lingerie, Memories, Mental Health, Poetry, Relationships, Role Models, Secrets, Social Distancing, Stereotypes, The Broga Frois, Transition, Transphobia, Transport, Visibility, and last but not least Football

2020 saw a slight dip in my global reach as visiting nations were slightly down from 34 in 2019 to 31 last year. The top five countries were UK , USA, Ireland, Canada, and Australia, With New Zealand, Spain, Turkey, Iraq, and Germany, making up the top ten. There were also readers from countries including South Africa, The Netherlands, Belgium, Finland, Argentina, Norway, and much to my astonishment Guadalupe, Yes readers my words reach glamorous places.

Till next time

Gayle X

Trophy Girl

In this poem I tackle the issue of LGBT footballers and why it’s so hard for them to come out even after they’ve stopped playing. It’s based on a true story that actually happened to me. I’ve given it the title Trophy Girl I hope you enjoy the read

Trophy Girl

I met him on a Sunday night
late summer maybe early autumn
Scotland was a different place
in those early millennium years
and I hadn’t come fully out
my road to transition was only just beginning
he never saw me at my best
in a little black dress
I was still too scared to be me
yet he flirted with me
when we met in the city centre
inviting me for a drink
I blushed reluctantly before declining
there was no silver lining in this
I never did get that kiss
we knew we both wanted to share
me and the football player
I never got the chance to dance
at the secret rendezvous
or lose myself in the arms
of the man I wanted to claim me
the star with no name
except to those who used to cheer him
from the terracing and stands
at the club he used to play for each Saturday
at a time when attitudes to sexuality
were even more hidden than now
our chance meeting happened
long after his playing days were over
and though hormones danced
at the thoughts that raced through my mind
I knew that fate had decided it wasn’t for me
and can only wonder what might have been
had we met the night before
when I was dolled up on the dance floor
ready to take my chances in the hope of being the trophy girl

A Story Of Gender Dysphoria

I really should have shared this poem on International Transgender Remembrance Day for reasons I think explain themselves. It’s titled A Story Of Gender Dysphoria.I hope you enjoy the read.

A Story Of Gender Dysphoria

When you’re taking hormones
you’ve been medically prescribed
as a way to help you change your life
when your personal anthem is I will survive
you know you have gender dysphoria

When you’ve been for a psychiatric assessment
to talk about decades of self resentment
and the specialist sees you
in a place of contentment
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

When you’ve had your feelings dismissed as a phase
When your body feels wrong like you’re trapped in cage
like you’re living your life in a permanent rage
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

When you’ve written in your poems
about thoughts you’ve repressed
and you’ve asked the psychiatrist what they suggest
when you’re told that your brain
doesn’t match to your sex
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

When you’re told you must live every day for a year
no matter the taunts the abuse , or the smears
and you still believe it’s a reason to cheer
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

On the bus at the bar or even at church
when you’re going to the football the the theatre or work
when there isn’t a place in the world
you can shirk
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

On the days you dispair and your not at your best
as your visitors dance with some unwelcome guests
even when you’re labelled as a man in a dress
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

When the year is completed
and the treatment gets real
you know it was you who signed up
for this deal
when no words how amazing it feels
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

When emotions kick in and the changes get started
as relatives grieve and your mum’s broken hearted
yet you feel fantastic as they mourn the departed
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

When you’re waxing your legs
till the hair disappears
when you’re changing your shape
and things start to appear
when going back to your past life would give you the fear
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

When your looking the part and your confidence soares
and the truth of your life is no longer is ignored
and you didn’t get dressed up because you were bored
you know you’ve got gender dysphoria

You knew who you were from a very young age
and though elders claimed it was only a phase
by the words you eventually placed on the page
you knew you had gender dysphoria

So now I’ve explained things
I hope you can see
that the cage is now empty the bird has flown free
this change has made me the best I can be
and I know I have gender dysphoria

Gift To Herself

In this poem I look at what can often be one of the hardest days a transwoman or indeed any trans person can ever face and that’s their first Christmas with the family. This is a day which is often fraught with difficulties and needs to be handled with care and sensitivity to ensure all goes as well as it can in the circumstances particularly if it is also the day when the family and friends find out the name their relative has chosen to be known by. I’ve given it the title Gift To Herself I hope you enjoy the read.

Gift To Herself

Aprenhensive she expected
stares, glares, and growls
when she wore her dress to dinner
that her mother said was unfit to be seen
in front of the queen on this day of all days
like the monarch had a direct satellite
in to their front room
as if she watched her dad carve the turkey
before starting the same tired old speech
to those who could be bothered to listen
her dad was fine though , kissing her cheek on arrival
for his daughter’s first Christmas
with the family
he made it clear neither her transition
nor her sexuality was to be discussed
other relatives blushed maintaining an awkward silence
as the stuffing was passed round the table
she wore her best smile to mask
the nerves the occasion demanded
eventually she cracked some jokes
and others begun to understand
she hadn’t really changed
as much as they had feared
she explained the reason why
she had to take the step
and why this family gathering
was the best time to do it
well it’s important to get it sorted
before dessert
the others agreed it was an appropriate time to get it done
as her dad asked Alexa to play
girls just wanna have fun
she handed everyone a cracker
and on the count of three
they pulled them to find party hats favours and a piece of paper
containing the name she chose
as a gift to herself
to wear as her personal identity

Merchant City Melodies

In this poem I look back at the beginning of my transition and at how the small steps I took at weekends would be the start of a much bolder journey to a place of far greater contentment and a much better quality of life. I’ve given it the title Merchant City Melodies I hope you enjoy the read.

Merchant City Melodies

Friday Night began
with Diet Cokes and singing
in the finest West of Scotland tradition
as those who never made it to X-factor auditions
belted out merchant city melodies
murdering classic songs
with Elvis and Madonna named
among the causalities.

In a safe space new arrivals expressed themselves
exploring their sexuality with the confidence they would never have had in straight bars
and the stars who never made T.V
were introduced by Betty B
claiming the stage and taking the mic
it was how we started Friday nights
in pencil skirt and fishnet tights
I was soon in the mood for dancing

Gathering Storm

On International Transgender Remembrance Day I send my toughest warning yet to the gender critics. If you carry on using incendiary language again the trans community this poem explains exactly where it will end. I’ve given it the title Gathering Storm as suggested by my friend and fellow poet Matt Panesh I hope you enjoy the read.

Gathering Storm

The cup was filled to capacity .
The clouds in her coffee were gathering
till the storm spilled over at boiling point.
Engulfing her in waves of unstoppable force
Broken: she lay on the floor .
Weeping for Brazilian and Colombian sisters .
She cried for Argentinian and Chilean girls and those in the USA
Never in her wildest nightmares
did she ever believe this would hit the UK
She knows different now.
It has arrived with violent force
causing her and those like her
to be drenched by panic.
Fanatics claim as prophecy
the will of God’s truth.
Abuse now a calorie free part
of her daily diet
She longs, for the quiet she used to know.
When rainy days were the worst she had to face.
Now: as tides of ignorance and hate
floods the land she grew up in.
She prays the gathering storm will stop.
And keyboard warriors ,online and in the mainstream press
will select other demons to fight.
in their twilight zones as midnight oil gets wasted.
By parrots masquerading as vampires.
On the orders of those, who play, the elimination game